Yesterday was spent getting romantic spa treatments for two. I’ve been to the spa more in the past two weeks than I have in the past two years.
I’m not complaining.
But today is our last day. I poke my head back in the bedroom to make sure he’s still sleeping and then go wait on the steps leading to the water below the bungalow for our breakfast to be delivered by canoe. I set the food and coffee on a tray and go into the bedroom.
After placing the delicious-smelling foods on the ottoman at the end of the bed, I climb up Luke’s body and kiss his lips.
“Luke, honey, wake up.” I nibble his lips and kiss over to his neck as he shifts beneath me.
“Mornin’,” he mumbles.
“Good morning, love. Wake up. I have something for you.”
He runs his hand down my back and frowns. “Hard to make love when you’re dressed, baby.”
I laugh as he opens those sexy blue eyes. “That’s not what I have for you.” I get up off him and walk to the end of the bed as he sits up, the sheet pooling in his lap, and runs his hands over his face and through his hair. His morning stubble is impossibly sexy.
“Breakfast!” I set the tray on the bed between us and pull the silver dome lid off the plate. There are large helpings of pancakes, bacon, eggs and fruit. On the side is a carafe of coffee and two mugs.
“Did you order this?” he asks.
“Yeah, I thought I’d feed you for once.”
He smiles and cups my face in his hand. “Thank you, baby.”
“You’re welcome. I hope you’re hungry.” I hold a strawberry up to his mouth, and he takes a bite, then I pop the rest in my own mouth.
“Starving,” he says, his lust-filled eyes on mine.
“Later,” I whisper.
“You’re no fun.” He pouts as he pours himself some coffee, and I laugh.
“That’s not what you said last night.” Thoughts of making love in the bathtub that sits out on the patio flood my mind, and I bite my lip.
“No, no complaints last night.”
“What time are we leaving?” I ask.
“Not until this evening. Why?”
“Do we have any special plans today?” I eat a bite of pancake and groan. “God, that’s good.”
“Damn, I love to watch you eat, baby. No, I thought we’d wing it today. Did you have something in mind?”
I shrug and take another bite of pancake.
“What is it?”
“Nothing. We can do whatever you want.” I avoid his gaze, suddenly shy. I don’t want to go anywhere today. I just want to be with him, and I don’t know why I’m suddenly so shy about speaking up and telling him so. It’s silly.
“Natalie.” His voice is stern, and I catch his gaze. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I was just thinking…” I put my fork down and bite my lip. “I just want to stay here, until we have to go to the airport. I want to be alone, for as long as we can, here in our tropical bubble.” The last few words are a whisper, and I glance up at him to see his reaction.
He’s smiling sweetly. “Why does that make you shy?”
I shrug again and look down. “I don’t know. I thought you might want to go have some grand adventure before we leave, but I just want you.”
“Baby, look at me.” I do as he asks without hesitating and am so relieved to see his beautiful smile. “Spending the day alone with you in this beautiful tropical paradise sounds perfect to me.”
“Okay.” I smile at him, relieved, and continue to dig into my pancakes.
We finish our breakfast, and while Luke is in the shower, room-service-in-a-canoe comes to take away the dirty dishes and linens. The man is quite large and is talkative while he gathers the things into a box to put on the canoe.
“Your husband is a very lucky man.” He smiles at me, and I smile, but inside something doesn’t feel right.
What an inappropriate thing to say. I don’t correct his misunderstanding about my marital status and simply say, “Thank you.”
“How long have you been married?”
“Um, not long.” Why is this creeping me out? I learned long ago to trust my instincts, so I cross the room so I’m standing behind a large couch, near the bathroom door.
“Oh, that’s nice.” He wanders over to the couch and picks at some pretend lint on the arm of the orange fabric. My heart speeds up as fear takes hold. He’s trying to move closer to me, and now his eyes are predatory. “I’ve noticed you this week. You’re very beautiful.”
“I think you’d better go now.” I move around the other side of the couch away from him, but he’s following me, and my heart is in my throat.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want you here. My husband will be out any minute, and I’m not interested. Get the fuck out or I’ll have you fired.”
“You can’t do that. My uncle owns this resort.” He laughs and starts to come at me faster.
“Luke!” I scream, but before the word is out of my mouth, the large man is thrown from behind and slammed into a wall. Luke, his breath heaving and his face contorted in rage, is gripping on to his throat. He punches him in the face, twice, and blood spurts out of the man’s nose, and he screams like a girl.
I’m quite sure no one has dared lay a hand on him before.
“I’m going to make sure you don’t ever try to touch another woman at this resort again, you fucker.” Luke’s voice is cold and calm, his eyes glacial, and this is a very angry side to him I’ve never seen before.
“Are you okay, baby?” He doesn’t look at me as he speaks, doesn’t take his eyes off of him.
“I’m fine.” My voice is stronger than I feel, and I’m glad.
“Call the main desk and tell them to call the cops. Tell them what happened.”
I do as he asks and within minutes a motorboat pulls up at our bungalow with management and police, and a man who must be the asshole’s uncle.
The police take control of the situation and relieve Luke of his charge. Luke then races to me and enfolds me in his arms. I must be too shocked to do more than stare wide-eyed at what’s happening around us.
“Are you okay?” His hands are running up and down my back, soothing me.
“Yes, I’m okay. He didn’t touch me. He was just really creepy, and I know he would have if you weren’t here. He felt off the minute he came in here, so I moved behind the couch close to the bathroom in case he tried anything, and he did.” I shiver, and Luke pulls me tighter to him.
The uncle is yelling for the police to arrest him. It seems this isn’t the first time this has happened. The Asshole is crying and blubbering, but no one cares.
As I watch what’s happening around me, the fear is replaced with pure rage. I pull out of Luke’s arms and walk over to The Asshole being handcuffed by the police. He’s crying down at me, weak and afraid, and before I know what I’m doing, I jerk my knee up, right between his legs and bring him to his knees.
My chest is heaving, and there is sudden silence all around us.
“I am not a victim.” My voice is hard and controlled and loud because I want him to hear every word. “And you are nothing but a piece of shit.”
“Did you see what she did to me? I want to press charges!” The whiny Asshole is wailing, but his uncle raises his hand, silencing him.
“I didn’t see anything that you didn’t deserve. Get him out of this bungalow.”
He’s escorted out, and the owner apologizes profusely, offering comps and refunds and anything else I can possibly imagine. I’m sure he’s praying we won’t go to the press, which we won’t anyway.
Luke wouldn’t have it.
I turn and look at Luke, whose eyes are hooded, his face hard. He tells the manager that we will still be leaving today.
“We will press charges, but I don’t want this to go to the press, either,” Luke murmurs, and my heart stops.
Oh my God. This could make things really bad for him if it hits the t
abloids. I suddenly feel so guilty. I leave Luke to handle the rest of the business alone and go into the master bedroom to start packing.
Luke comes in the room as I’m finishing with the underwear drawer. He walks straight to me and pulls me into his strong arms, rocking me back and forth, kissing my forehead. “Are you really okay?”
“I’m so sorry.”
“For what?” He pulls back and frowns down at me. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“This could be really bad for you if the tabloids catch wind of it.”
“Trust me, they won’t. Neither the resort nor I want that. But that’s not what’s important. You are, baby. Did he hurt you?”
“No, I told you, he didn’t touch me. But it felt good to knee him in the balls.” I smile, and Luke pulls me back to him.
“I was so scared when I came out of the bathroom and heard you scream. I saw that bastard lunge for you, and I honestly don’t remember much after that. I just had to make sure he didn’t touch you.” He’s running his thumb down my cheek, and I kiss his palm.
“Thank you.”
“I will always protect you, baby. That’s what I’m here for. That’s what I want to do.”
“I know, and it’s one of the reasons why I love you. I don’t know why I’m not freaking out.” I shrug and grin. “I guess I just felt strong, and I knew that you were here, and that he couldn’t hurt me.” I run my hands through his hair. “Are you okay?”
“As long as you’re okay, yes, I’m okay. God, I love how strong you are, baby. It was quite a sight watching you take him to his knees.”
“You might want to remember that, in case you ever get out of line.” I press my body up against his and smile up at him.
“Oh yeah? You think you can take me?” He rubs his nose across mine, and I sigh.
“Probably not, but the wrestling around part would be fun.”
He laughs and smiles tenderly at me. And now, for his other present.
“So, before we were so rudely interrupted, I was going to give you a present when you got out of the shower.”
His eyebrows fly up. “You got me a present?”
“Sort of, yes.” I’m wearing a bathing suit cover-up that is quite conservative, in black. It’s a hoodie style that zips up the front and covers me from my knees to my neck.
I step back out of Luke’s grasp and begin pulling the zipper slowly down, keeping the fabric closed. When the zipper is completely undone, I shrug the fabric off my shoulders so it pools at my feet.
Luke gasps, and his eyes widen, finding mine, and his face breaks out into a face-splitting grin. I plant my hands on my naked hips and cock my head. “Do you like my outfit?”
He walks to me and runs his fingers under my pearls and kisses me in that tender way he has, and I feel my knees go weak.
“Baby, you know I love this outfit. There is nothing like looking at you wearing nothing but these pearls.”
“I love the way you look at me,” I whisper.
Luke’s eyes skim hungrily down my body, and when his gaze returns to mine he kisses me tenderly.
“I don’t want to fuck you today, Natalie,” he whispers against my lips.
Oh. “You don’t?” I whisper back and roll my head back, as his lips wander down my neck.
“No.”
“I love your whispery voice.”
He grins. “I know.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I want to make slow, sweet love to you.” His fingertips are just barely touching me, brushing up and down my back, sending shivers through me, and his lips mirror them on my neck. It’s sensation gone mad.
“That sounds lovely.”
He lifts me in his arms, and I wrap my fingers in his hair as my lips find his in a soft kiss. He gently lowers me onto the bed and covers me with his body, his legs between mine. He glides his right hand up my left arm and links our fingers, but instead of holding them above my head, he simply rests them on the bed next to my head.
This isn’t about restraining me, or playing with me. This is about him showing me how much he loves me, and it fills me with so much strength and reassurance and tenderness.
He runs the fingers of his left hand through the hair by my face as he continues to kiss me, softly, gently, patiently. I rest the bottoms of my feet on his calves, rubbing up and down, caressing him, as I thrum the fingertips of my free hand up and down his strong back.
I can feel his hardness against me, but he makes no move to sink inside me. Not yet.
“You are so beautiful,” he murmurs against my lips.
“You make me feel beautiful,” I whisper to him, and he groans.
He plants tiny kisses at the side of my mouth. I weave my fingers into his hair and gently caress him.
“I love your hair. It feels so good in my fingers.”
“I figured that,” he whispers, and I feel him smile against my neck. “You always have your hands in it.”
“Don’t ever cut it short, please.” I love hearing his whispery voice.
“Okay.” He kisses my earlobe and tickles it with his teeth. “You have amazing skin, so smooth and soft. And you always smell so good.”
His words are seductive. His hand is still moving in my hair, and my body is humming.
My hips start to move beneath him, and I feel his grin at my throat. “You know what you do to me.”
“You do the same to me, baby.” He flexes his hips, pushing his cock against my wet center. The tip slides against my clitoris, and I gasp.
“I want you.”
“I know. I want you, too.”
I love the whispers, the soft sighs and gasps. This is the quietest our lovemaking has ever been, and it’s no less intoxicating.
Oh so slowly he begins to fill me, one delightful inch at a time, until he’s buried as far as he can go. He fills me up, physically, emotionally, and I feel tears roll from the sides of my eyes.
This sweet, protective, kind, sexy man loves me. And I love him, oh so much.
“Don’t cry, baby.” His whispered voice is rough with emotion, and he starts to slowly move, in and out of me. My legs hitch up higher around his hips, taking him in even deeper, and as he hits that most sensitive spot, I feel sparks begin to fly through me.
“Oh, I’m gonna come, my love.”
“Yes,” he whispers in my ear, and I am lost, my orgasm consuming me, but I barely make a sound, caught up in our quiet lovemaking.
Luke stills, pushes into me one last time and empties himself into me, whispering my name.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I’ve decided that being back in the real world does not suck.
We’ve been home from our romantic Tahitian getaway for a week, and we have fallen into a comfortable routine of work, flirty texts throughout the workday, hitting the gym or yoga together and alternating between his place and mine at night.
Tonight, we’re staying at my place, and we’re having dinner with Jules.
“That is not how you cook pasta!” Jules looks beautiful, as usual, as she glares at my boyfriend, and I smirk.
“How the hell do you do it?” Luke is thoroughly frustrated with her, and I’m sitting back with a glass of wine, enjoying the show.
“You have to put the salt in the water before it comes to a boil. Everyone knows that.”
“You know what, you do it. I’m going to make out with my girlfriend.” He leaves Jules to finish dinner and comes around the breakfast bar to kiss me.
“Is she being mean to you?” I ask and caress his face.
“No, she just doesn’t know how to cook and won’t listen.”
“I can hear, you know.” Jules glares at us, and we laugh.
I love spending evenings with these two. They both mean the world to me, and I love it that they get along so well.
“So, Luke, when does your new movie come out?” Jules is stirring the pasta.
“This Friday,” he responds and takes a sip of wine.
“What?” I exclaim. I had no idea! Why doesn’t he tell me these things?
“Um, I have a movie coming out on Friday.”
I stare at him, dumbfounded.
Jules looks back and forth between us and then mutters, “Oops.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” My feelings are so hurt.
“It didn’t occur to me.” He frowns and shrugs.
“You have a major motion picture about to be released for millions of people to see, and it didn’t occur to you to mention it to your girlfriend?” I turn and face him on my stool.
What the hell?
“I just did some of the production. I’m not starring in it or anything.”
“I don’t care, Luke. This is a big deal. Are you going to the premiere?”
“No, absolutely not.” He shakes his head and runs his hand through his hair.
“Why? You should go. You’re a part of it.”
“No.” He swallows hard. “I don’t do that anymore.”
“Either way, you should have told me. You never talk to me about your work, and you know all about mine.” This is something that’s been bothering me, and I’m glad Jules brought it up.
“What does a producer do, anyway?” Jules asks as she drains the pasta and starts layering lasagna in a glass dish.
“It depends on the producer. There are a lot of different roles. Some are on set during the entire production and run things there. Some work behind the scenes, securing money from a studio or wooing actors and directors. There are a lot of things to do, and there are usually a few producers doing different jobs.”
“Okay, so what do you do, specifically?” I ask, sincerely interested.
“I’ve been doing the behind-the-scenes, preproduction stuff so I can work from here. Sometimes I have to make a trip to LA or New York for a brief meeting, but that’s rare these days. Pretty much everything can be done on the phone or by e-mail. So, I talk to actors and directors, and sometimes sit in on conference calls to get money secured for a project.” He’s talking with his hands, so animated and enthusiastic, and it occurs to me that he really loves what he does. I smile at him and kiss his cheek.
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